Disclaimer: Marvel's, not mine.
Soooo…thanks to my reviewers, and sorry for the long delay! The final chapter is short. But fitting I suppose.
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There was a loud pulsing in Rogue's ears as she slowly looked down at her bleeding stomach.
The feeling of not being able to hear made time stop, colors and shapes blur.
The barrel of the gun was smoking and still pointed slightly lower than her chest.
Her mother's hand was steady as her wide yellow eyes held her shock.
Remy's strong arms supported Rogue to the ground. Mystique slowly lowered the gun.
Rogue blinked, water unwillingly forming from her eyes. The corner of her mouth curved into an untimely smile.
"This ain't funny chere."
Remy's voice was stern as he applied pressure with something to Rogue's bleeding wound. One hand wiped hair from her face as his red eyes blazed.
Mystique's voice was in the background, as she spoke into a small phone. As Mystique kneeled into the grass beside Rogue and Remy, Remy's hand swept out and grabbed her wrist tightly.
"Give me da gun woman."
There was no room for compromise in his voice. Mystique's mouth opened to argue, but she eyed her bleeding daughter and reaching to her hip, she removed the gun and placed it in Remy's palm.
"That bullet was meant for you," Mystique seethed.
The danger in Remy's eyes glowed brightly as he put the gun in his inside pocket and returned his attention to Rogue.
"How ya feeling Rogue?"
Her smile hadn't disappeared as she nodded her chin up to look at Remy.
"I can't feel."
"What can't you feel chere?"
"Nothing. I can't feel anything."
A noise escaped her throat, akin to a laugh. It was followed by a cough, the spit red. Her lips were slowly losing color.
With one gloved hand Remy wiped away the blood.
"You ain't going to die Rogue."
Rogue closed her mouth and smiled, resting her head back down.
Remy looked up at Mystique, his hands burning with energy.
"Was I dat much of a threat to you?"
His eyes narrowed. Mystique paused.
"Yes. Yes Remy you were."
Before he could ask why, Jean and a few others showed up, medical bags in hand. Remy watched Jean lift Rogue with her telekinesis. He followed behind Rogue as they walked quickly back to the mansion.
A thief, eyes so normally trained to take in every detail missed every inch of the house as they took an elevator to the basement. His concentration was only on the blood. And Rogue's constant smile.
They put her on an exam table, fiddling with tools, and ripping the clothes away from her stomach wound.
Remy stood close by watching every moment. Afraid to look away, afraid to lose a minute of Rogue's life. He reached out and touched a curl of her hair, smoothing it softly.
Blood was dribbling from her mouth again. Her chest hardly rose. She was still unconscious. Something had been injected inside her so they could remove the bullet.
It was a mixture of shiny metal and wet blood. Remy's eyes stayed on the wound as they stitched it up, glimpsing her insides. He felt his throat gag at seeing the woman he loved so closely. A sight she had never even seen of herself: her insides.
He remembered the doctors looking to one another wearily. He remembered everyone slowly leaving the room. Jean walked up, touched his arm. Spoke to him.
He dismissed every sound. Every movement and action.
He had been such a fool.
His arms reached out for a chair he wasn't even sure his mind saw consciously. He sat down ungracefully, his eyes never leaving Rogue.
The room was empty but the two of them.
Her eyelashes were long, covering the emerald gems he needed to see.
He reached out and smoothed one gloved hand across her bare arm. He wished she would respond.
A thought struck him as he watched her calm, uncharacteristic face. Slowly he removed the glove from his hand and dangled one finger hesitantly above her bare skin.
He wondered.
He let his finger fall, grazing her skin. And nothing happened.
He let his entire hand fall.
She had control of her powers. But only when she was awake he had thought.
He ran his hand up and down her arm, before moving up her neck, resting a finger on her parched lips.
The truth was she was still beautiful in this state.
The other truth was he had heard the words of the doctors.
She wouldn't' survive most likely.
She was dying, as he touched her.
He heard the door whoosh open behind him and ignored it.
"Can I have one last moment with my daughter?"
A small silence filled the room. Nothing moving as Remy kept his head bowed down towards Rogue.
And then he chuckled.
"It's a simple request Remy."
Remy lifted his head, his hand crawling away from Rogue towards his coat pocket.
"No it ain't."
He could feel Mystique's frustration fill the room as he stood up.
"Accidents happen Remy. I consider you finding my daughter an accident."
Remy looked at Rogue one last time. He leaned over and kissed her despondent lips. Then he turned around and pointed the gun at Mystique's chest.
"That's true Mystique. Accidents happen everyday. But dat ain't enough o'a justification."
"Did you have justification in breaking my daughters heart?" Mystique didn't move a muscle. Her eyes watched Remy's eyes as any good soldier would do.
"Dat wasn't any o'your business." Remy pulled the hammer back, cocking his head to the side. "Rogue ain't like no other woman."
"Then why did you leave her?" Mystique's hands went to her hips, but fear had begun to seep into her expression.
"You know dat story. I was young and I was a fool." Remy shook his head. "I imagined a hundred different lives for Rogue and I. I was obsessed with my love for her. I watched her from a distance. I imagined how I would o'done things differently."
"She's dying now Remy. And killing me won't change that."
"I never wanted to hurt her."
Another pause. Remy thought his hand might shake.
"You'll live with everything you've done wrong Mystique."
Mystique arched her eyebrows, mouth opening to respond.
"And I loved Rogue. She was my perfect fit."
Remy positioned the gun inside his mouth and pulled the trigger before Mystique could respond.
The impact of the bullet sent his body back onto Rogue's bed.
Remy died instantly, the blood seeping onto her hospital gown.
But his hand reached out for hers, as the other dropped the gun to the floor.
They would die by the same weapon.
But as Remy's body went limp, Rogue's eyes blinked open.
It was only for an instant. Enough to see her lover's fall.
Rogue saw a million different images as she sucked in her last breath. It was loud, rushing in her ears. The last intake of oxygen. The last bit of life.
The images were of confusion. Uncertainty.
She could feel Remy's hand against hers. She squeezed it as her eyes closed again.
If soulmates existed, perhaps Remy was hers after all.
She would have never left the idea of loving him.
She would never have loved another the same.
They had died like this before, together, in another life.
Blood seemed to transcend time.
Like love.
……………….
FIN.